I've been working as a Cambridge Speaking Examiner (SE) since 2015, and one of the most important things I learnt from the SE notes was to always ask "Why (not)?". Whatever question we ask our candidates, we always follow up with "why?". You might think it's easy to give a reason for liking or disliking, agreeing or disagreeing, but it isn't always so simple. What's more, having an opinion at all can't be taken for granted: it's a skill that needs to be learnt and developed.
Let's pause here for a moment: repeating what you've been drilled to say is easy — but it isn't your opinion. So the first sign of a maturing mind is disagreement. This is one reason I enjoy working with teenagers: they're at the perfect age to disagree with anybody about anything. Yet they often freeze up when asked why. Giving a reason for an opinion takes more grey matter — white matter, in fact. What's needed is something called "critical thinking", now one of the most discussed, defined, debated and misunderstood concepts around.
Indeed (a website I recommend for job-interview preparation) identifies six components of critical thinking: 1. Analytical thinking; 2. Good communication; 3. Creative thinking; 4. Open-mindedness; 5. Problem-solving ability; 6. Asking thoughtful questions.
FutureLearn identifies seven steps to becoming a "critical thinker":
- Analysing and weighing up arguments,
- Evaluating evidence that has been presented,
- Distinguishing between fact and opinion,
- Reviewing the research methods used (how the data was gathered),
- Considering the potential for bias,
- Analysing different interpretations, viewpoints and perspectives,
- Reaching conclusions based on your own reasoning.
Being a fairly practical person, I prefer to simplify things, much as the Cambridge Dictionary does, with the following definition: the process of thinking carefully about a subject or idea, without allowing feelings or opinions to affect you. To my mind, then, critical thinking means that you:
- have your own opinion,
- can justify it using appropriate language,
- have arrived at it only after carefully weighing up opinions that contradict it.
So if I were asked whether I agree that language teachers should be native speakers of the target language, I would answer:
- I disagree, and I firmly believe non-native teachers are of great value,
- because they are language learners themselves, and understanding their own weaknesses makes them all the more meticulous in preparing lessons and finding answers to their students' questions,
- although we can't deny that educated native speakers have an innate sense of whether a sentence sounds right or wrong, and they also have an advantage in pronunciation drills.
The lesson of critical thinking was taught to me by an extraordinary professor. Only a few years after socialism fell in our country, he had the courage to ask us to take traditional, well-respected German grammar books and read them critically. He encouraged us to find statements, ideas and examples that were wrong, cross them out, and then bring them to the next lesson to explain why we thought they were incorrect. Under socialism, having an opinion was penalised, so being given permission — and the possibility — to express what we actually thought, and to say that an expert, a professor or a teacher might be wrong, was liberating. I was electrified by the exercise: I read those grammar references eagerly, hunting for something to challenge and voice an opinion on. It became a habit of mine, and it's now one of the core skills I teach my own students. It doesn't matter whether a student agrees with me; my own opinion is the last thing up for discussion. What matters far more is that they can justify their own ideas.
Have you ever noticed how we keep criticising TV, the internet and social media, yet somehow spend more and more time on them? I've always seen these media as an opportunity to build language skills. When my children finish an episode and come to the dinner table, the question is always: What did you watch? What happened? Do you agree with the characters and their opinions? Why (not)?
The same applies to social media. I only "like" something after asking myself: why do I like this? If I can give a reasonable explanation, I click the heart or thumbs-up icon. So next time you're about to hit "like", stop and ask yourself: is this opinion or prejudice? Is it really you doing the thinking? If so, why do you like it? Why don't you? Why do you agree, or disagree?
Once you've practised this skill with everyday opinions, you need to apply it to your professional life too. We tend to accept other people's judgements and start believing we are what they think we are. This is a dangerous trap, because you lose control over your own work and life. Many young colleagues leave teaching because they can't process feedback — not just because people tend to criticise more than they praise, but also because people rarely voice their genuine opinion; more often, they're subtly trying to manipulate you. A healthy sense of critical thinking can save you from undeserved, destructive criticism — or even undeserved praise. Being able to analyse what's said, set aside emotional reactions, and understand the speaker's motivation can free you from unfair messages.
Let me give you some examples from my twenty years as a language teacher where I could — or should — have been more critical myself.
You may have noticed that I've mentioned an excellent language school in previous posts more than once — the one that, in terms of structure and policy, is still my ideal school. However, I've never told you why I left. My head teacher at the time (an excellent colleague, nonetheless) promoted me to senior teacher after just one year, based on student feedback and my involvement in organising and creating teaching materials for other staff. The usual path to senior teacher, though, took at least five years, so every other senior teacher was at least five years older than me — more likely ten to fifteen. When I turned up to my first senior teachers' meeting at the age of twenty-four, I was directed towards the library, on the assumption I must be lost. People genuinely looked at me with contempt. They didn't have to wait long to see the back of me: the school's head teacher — a prominent German teacher and examiner, and vice-principal of the institute at the time — came to observe one of my lessons. I was over-prepared; the lesson went fine (not outstanding, but not bad either). After sitting through the whole thing without so much as a smile, she gave me the harshest feedback I've ever received. If you've heard about German directness, multiply it by a fair dose of contempt, and you'll get an idea of what I heard afterwards: "At least you can speak German. You certainly can't teach. You're lucky you met me — I can show you how it's done." What would you have said? Seriously, how would you have reacted? I fell apart. I cried down the phone to my mum for six hours (all my love and gratitude to her), and within a month I was on a plane, moving abroad. I shouldn't have done that. I should have used my critical thinking skills to filter out the cruelty in the comment and looked at what was really going on. I should have looked past the words and considered the motivation behind them.
So my second message, to young and old alike, is this: always separate your feelings from your opinions, and clear your head before making a decision. You might even choose to turn down a promotion if the timing feels wrong — just be sure you know why you're doing it.
Being a teacher really is one of the best jobs, for many reasons — one being that you get to help people grow their critical thinking. I remember a fifteen-year-old student who had no opinion about anything. Whenever I asked what he thought about this or that, his answer was always "dunno". I found that genuinely sad. But when I started working with PhD students, I realised the problem was even more urgent. PhD students thrive within their own field but often have little to no insight into others — with due respect to the many exceptions. They stay firmly within their comfort zone, repeating lectures and reading from slides, yet have barely an opinion on anything beyond it. Or worse, they have opinions with no justification behind them. Many of my colleagues think what these highly educated researchers need is TED-Talk-style presentation training (which is also true), but I honestly believe what they need most are lessons in critical thinking. Our classrooms are the safe space to disagree, voice opinions freely, examine where our beliefs come from, and perhaps refine our points of view. They also offer a chance to find inspiration for our own research.
Finally, here's an observation most of my fellow teachers will recognise: some students never progress beyond B1 level. They struggle to pass a B2 exam, let alone C1 or C2. They attend lessons consistently and complete every piece of homework, yet they simply can't cross the threshold to become confident, professional speakers. They may even have the most dedicated and well-prepared teacher, and have almost certainly invested a great deal of money in their language tuition. They've even learnt the structure of an English essay (yes, paragraphs really do make a difference) and memorised a string of linking devices. So why can't they reach the C levels?
Now, here's the most important message of this article: the reason this happens is that these students only have a B2 level in their own mother tongue. Becoming a C1–C2 level speaker of any language — first or second — takes more than vocabulary and grammatical accuracy. It takes more than understanding a range of accents and dialects, or being able to pronounce words correctly. It's about being able to analyse a question, express an opinion, and justify that opinion — in both your mother tongue and any second language. Ultimately, it comes down to being able to answer that simple exam question: Why (not)?
This is exactly why a language teacher must also be a master, and a trainer, of critical thinking.
PS: This article was originally published on LinkedIn on 9 December 2023.
Before you leave, take a look at these ESL materials aiming to improve your students' critical thinking.